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Wanderlust

Seriously, I have promised myself that I will finish this white paper I am working on before I do anything else.  Except breathe.  And drink a lot of water which is good for you.  And then of course, pee.  And I have been working really hard, until I had to search for a research paper online and I came across this picture, completely by accident, of Le Meridien Bora Bora…

le-meridien-Bora Bora

It, how did you say it, oh yeah,

Simply. Took. My. Breath. Away.

I couldn’t go back to do whatever I was doing until I spent some time daydreaming about it…

I love hotels.  I think my love for travelling, my Wanderlust, stemmed from my very basic fascination with hotels from a very young age.  (Ok, the clean, fancy kind.  Or at least, the not spooky gross-out kind.  Not the ones looking like they are from the movie Barton Fink, oh no…)  My mom worked as a hotel maid and she sneaked me into the hotel when she couldn’t find or afford a babysitter.  Sometimes, after I begged her to smuggle me in.  Literally.  Many times I rode on the bottom of the service cart, camouflaged by a bed linen.  I was always excited.  Hotels to me are where dreams are made of.  Clean, fluffy linens and pillows.  Nicely made beds.

(Of course I understand the hard work put in by the hotel cleaning staff.  Until this day, I clean up after myself as much as I can whenever I stay in a hotel…)

I don’t even care about Bora Bora.  No offence to people who are Bora Bora-nese? Bora Bora-en?  I am sure it is a gorgeous tropical paradise, Kodak moment everywhere you turn.  What I am trying to say is: I just want to go there so I can stay in one of these bungalows, over the lagoon, before I die.

That’s all I’ve got to say.

Le Meridian Bora Bora inside

Le Meridian Bora Bora view

le-meridien-Bora Bora units

Edited to add, now that I have 5 minutes to regroup from my initial shock: Preferably without kids. Thank you.

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